The Advantage of Mercy
by Gwdihw
Summary: AU. Voldemort decides to keep his promise to Snape and spares Lily's life, leaving him free to kill Harry. Lily struggles to find meaning in a world where her husband and son have been murdered and Voldemort is still at large, the angry backlash leaves the Malfoys in danger and Hogwarts may not be the safest place to be anymore... but there is hope.
1. Chapter 1

The Advantage of Mercy

Stepping over the dark-haired corpse (ah, but it is a shame when the pure of blood must die!), the Dark Lord heads upstairs, gripped with a fluttering excitement, the ecstasy that always accompanies being one step closer to immortality.

In a small bedroom stuffed with fluffy toys and painted a powder blue, Lily Potter is trembling, splaying her body in front of the cot as though trying to hide it. It is almost amusing how this fragile thing, this barely magical creature attempts to delay the inevitable.

Now she pleads.

The pleas annoy him the most – a whining scratch at his ears and glistening tears like worthless diamonds.

Severus has asked him to spare this one, and Severus is indeed one of his most useful servants. Possibly the most useful. He asks for so little to placate him – to let the mudblood live, allow her filthy heart to beat for as long as nature intended it should.

Yet she will not move.

The Dark Lord, on the verge of killing her, and irritated now by the hysterical display of emotion, suddenly thinks of another spell, one which he rarely bothers using but one he knows.

'Stupefy,' he pronounces coldly. Lily's body crumples as though lifeless; now he can deal with the boy.

The Dark Lord locks into a gaze with Harry Potter's curious green eyes for less than a second before raising his wand once again. Although he tells himself that he was never afraid, he cannot deny the relief which floods his body once he has killed the child.

* * *

St Mungo's is busy. It is always busy these days, filled with screams and sobs and stricken relatives. It reflects the warzone which the wizarding world has become.

Albus Dumbledore and Remus Lupin sit side by side next to Lily's unconscious form in the hospital bed; it had seemed to cruel to wake her at the scene of her husband and son's murder. The healers have tactfully left them alone after ascertaining that Lily suffers no injury worse than being stunned.

'Are you ready, Remus?' Dumbledore asks kindly. Remus, deathly white with shock and gripping his robes with the claws of his hands, nods.

'_Ennervate!'_

Lily stirs, confused at first as though waking from a dream. It breaks Remus' heart as he sees her remember, her terror filling the room.

'Where's Harry? Is Harry alright?' she demands, hauling herself out of bed, her fear giving her strength.

'Lily,' Remus says slowly, sorrowfully. It has always been said that he has a way with words and Remus realises how true this must be; from merely saying her name she realises the worst and her legs give way underneath her.

'Voldermort killed him,' Lily whispers, dazed.

'I am very sorry, Lily,' Dumbledore says gently.

'Why?' She is looking at her own hands as though she is disgusted by them. 'Why didn't he kill me? He ploughs through victims without a second thought, so why would he not kill me?'

'I'm afraid that we cannot fathom an answer to that question,' Dumbledore says. 'We may never know. There may not be an answer. Chance sometimes works in strange ways.'

'It wasn't chance,' Lily says, shaking her head firmly. 'He was deliberately trying to spare me – he told me to get out of the way lots of times! I just don't understand.'

Remus, one arm around Lily's shoulder as she starts to cry silently, glances quizzically at Dumblerdore, but neither man can fathom this. Lily however has already forgotten this, for now anyway, and cannot think any further than her own swelling grief. Everything has gone from her.

'The aurors are questioning Sirius,' Remus tells her. She starts as though a current of electricity has run through her.

'Sirius? What?'

'Because he was your Secret Keeper and it seems most likely that –'

'No, he wasn't,' Lily cuts across. She had forgotten the technicalities surrounding the tragedy. 'It was Peter. We changed it just two days ago.'

'Wormtail,' Remus mutters under his breath, but his heart lifts a little. It pained him to have to think of his best friend as a murderer whereas with Pettigrew… well, they should have realised that something wasn't right when it was revealed that the animal he most resembled was a rat.

'I shall inform the Wizengamot at once of Sirius' innocence,' Dumbledore says, standing up and disapparating immediately. Once gone, Lily abandons pretence and sobs openly, burying herself in Remus arms, he who understands the pain of having lost James.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

April 1982

Later on, Lily will barely remember those months other than the anxious faces of Remus and Sirius hovering around her, frightened of leaving her alone. She knows that the war gets worse and there are horrific battles and she has managed to kill quite a few Death Eaters herself, including Avery, but the details escape her. She is in a dream, a trance.

'Lily, we're worried about you,' Sirius says gravely. She never would have thought that she would ever see Sirius – reckless, capricious, overgrown child of a man – looking serious.

Remus, who has always looked like a sombre adult from his first day at Hogwarts, looks worse.

'What now?' Lily asks testily. They are in the kitchen at Grimmauld Place which Sirius has only just inherited and could think of no more delightful way of pissing off the ghosts of his parents than promptly offering it to the Order. Fabian Prewett is reading the Daily Prophet at the other side of the table and tactfully pretending to be engrossed.

'Lily, you're being reckless, far too reckless,' Sirius whispers urgently.

She snorts away his concern. 'Well, if that isn't the pot calling the cauldron black, I don't know what is!'

This conversation has been ruminated over before too many times. They think that she is taking too many risks, that she is hunting Death Eaters with a blind anger and that she is going to get herself killed. How stupid are they not to know that's exactly what she's trying to do, she thinks savagely.

'We were thinking,' Remus suggests cautiously, glancing over at Sirius for support, 'that maybe it would help to spend time with your sister.'

'Of course, you're absolutely welcome to stay here,' Sirius adds quickly. 'We just thought that it might be good for you... you know, to spend time with family.'

Lily shakes her head. She appreciates what they are trying to do but she is past help, even if her sister were inclined to offer it. Lily also doubts that being around a child the same age as Harry was would help her. Watching him make those little milestones, stringing words together to make sentences and developing a unique personality of his own – it would be heartbreak every single day.

Yet she misses her sister, more than she has done so for years. She regrets more than ever that their paths have led them so far away from each other when at one time there were no secrets between them. Perhaps one day she could go and see her – during the day, of course, when that beast of a man is in work. Then she could cry in her sister's arms like that time in primary school when the boys started calling her 'carrots' and Petunia told her not to worry, it was because they fancied her. It would be as though the years had dissolved and no time had passed.

But time has passed, Lily reminds herself coldly.

* * *

Severus stands before the Dark Lord, head inclined and ready to do whatever he is asked next. Whatever it is. For however long it takes. Life as a Death Eater no longer holds the glamorous appeal that it once did when he was fresh out of Hogwarts and eager to show his magical skill to the world. His conscience aches dully. He has, however, no choice in the matter.

The Dark Lord spared Lily's life and he must therefore be a loyal servant until he is spent, until his knees buckle with exhaustion.

'Severus, I wish for you to make enquiries about the Longbottom family and where they are currently residing,' the Dark Lord says.

'Yes, my lord.'

'You see, I've decided that although it was more likely that the prophecy in question referred to Harry Potter, why take the risk? Surely it would be prudent to destroy Neville Longbottom, too.'

'That sounds pragmatic, my lord,' Severus says respectfully. More dead children. More fractured families. The destruction bothers him more than he thought it would. But, of course, leaving is out of the question.

He heads to Gringotts as soon as the interview has come to an end, the Dark Lord smiling cruelly like a tiger holding down a deer with its oversized paw. _I own your soul_, is what the smile said.

Entering the bank, people blanch and scuttle away from him – who is and isn't a Death Eater is no longer a secret. When Severus was little, he hated being at the mercy of his father and those heavy fists and he dreamed of being big enough and strong enough to overcome him. Those terrified eyes, rolling back like dumb animals being hunted, assure him that he has achieved this.

Not many of the goblins at Gringotts can be bribed – they are an honourable, hardy lot with more gold than they can count and have no need for the favours of wizards. But there is one, Severus has discovered, one who is younger, greedier and more foolish than his fellows: Trupk.

Trupk rushes over, glittery-eyed and smirking, as soon as he sees Severus, bowing far more low than the other goblins ever would.

'How may I help?' he simpers, leading Severus aside to a private room.

'I need you to tell me when the Longbottoms visit their vault,' Severus says curtly. 'They are a rich, old family – sooner or later they must come – and I want to be able to track them when they do. You know how to communicate with me?'

Trupk nods. Gold slithers surreptitiously between them, a secret under the table, nothing mentioned.

It would be an unremarkable day if it were not for the fact that Severus sees Lily as he leaves Gringotts.

To him, she burns like the sun in the grey street, her hair alight and cascading as though liquid from her shoulders, and eyes like a forest in summer. He can barely look at her and continue breathing.

'Lily,' he says warmly, as though they are both still eleven years old and best friends. She, noticing him, assumes a look of deep disgust.

'Get out of my sight, Severus,' she hisses. Up close, he sees a new hardness in her, an icy composure which shocks him.

'I'm just being civil,' he says.

She laughs bitterly, a bark like the one Sirius Black uses. 'You're a Death Eater; I'm not civil to Death Eaters.'

To her, this is the extent of his crime. She doesn't know that it was he that set James and Harry up to be murdered. Severus wonders why Dumbledore has not told her.

And then she leaves, walking away from him. Severus stands there, wondering how much she would hate him for saving her life if she knew.

* * *

Lily, exhausted and furious, locks herself in the bedroom that she's been using in Grimmauld Place. It is small, dark and feels like the furthest thing from home that there is, yet she does not have the strength to return to Godric's Hollow after this.

She goes to the chest of drawers and takes out a silvery, cold garment which slides in between her fingers and gleams in the candlelight. She has always imagined that this is what a soul looks like outside the body.

She wraps the invisibility cloak around herself, relaxing inside her own transparency and thinking of James. Their first kiss was underneath this cloak, in the middle of the common room, unseen by the crowd, unseen by everyone except each other.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

July 1982

'Molly, we can't take all the children shopping, it just isn't practical,' Arthur says soothingly, putting his arm around his wife to calm her. 'One of us will have to go with Bill and one of us will stay here to look after the rest.'

Molly looks deeply unhappy at the idea of going to Diagon Alley with only one adult present, but she accepts the fact that trying to herd an eleven-year old, a nine-year old, a nearly-six-year old (as Percy proudly tells anyone who asks his age), two four year olds, a two year old and a baby who's yet to turn one around the shops is bound to go awry, especially considering that they're never allowed anywhere further than the back garden. Excitement would be running too high.

She is now torn between deciding whether to trust Arthur to go shopping and buy all the right things and trusting him to look after the children and not let the house get destroyed. She trusts him to do neither of these things.

'I'll take Bill to Diagon Alley,' she says finally to Arthur. 'I don't want to have to make a second trip there.' Arthur accepts this good-naturedly.

'Do you want to come as well, Charlie?' she offers hesitantly. The last thing she wants is screams of 'me, too' from the younger ones. His eyes light up and he nods savagely.

'Can I come, Mummy?' Percy asks with enormous eyes. 'I want to see the shops.'

'Not this time, Darling, maybe next year. You help Daddy look after the little ones for me, please.'

Percy, slightly cheered by not being classed as one of the 'little ones', says: 'Okay.'

* * *

Diagon Alley has a vaguely threatening atmosphere these days, like an invisible cloud, and Molly makes sure that she has Bill's hand held tightly with her left and Charlie's with her right in spite of their protestations that they are too old.

'We'll do it my way or we'll go back home,' she warns.

Molly is anxious the whole time, studying the clock on the wall as Bill is fitted for his first robes and grinning from ear to ear, Charlie watching enviously from his seat. Then there are all those new books to buy, which Molly and Arthur have been saving for all year, and the cauldron and the ingredients and the parchment and ink.

'Mum, can I have an owl?' Bill asks longingly as they pass the Emporium where the smart birds are standing in rows like soldiers. 'Jack Pritchard says that everyone has their own owl at Hogwarts.'

'Sweetie, Jack Pritchard is lying and I'm afraid we just can't afford it. There will be plenty of school owls for you to use.'

Bill is crestfallen but says no more on the matter.

'Right, well, I think that's everything,' Molly says, scanning through the items quickly. 'We best be off home.'

'Mum, I don't have a wand,' Bill reminds.

'Goodness me, no – fancy sending you off to Hogwarts with no wand!'

There are a couple of other students waiting ahead of them in Ollivanders, and Bill and Charlie watch the process with fascination. Molly is also surprised to see Lily Potter waiting, reading a magazine. Although Molly doesn't know Lily well, she knows her well enough to say hello.

'Hello, how are you?' Molly says pleasantly, sitting down next to Lily who looks as though she would rather not have the company.

'I'm good,' Lily says with a strained smile; her eyes fall upon the two scarlet-haired boys automatically. Children haunt her.

'What brings you here?' Molly asks.

Lily sighs and shows her the remains of the willow wand, crushed up into shards. 'Death Eater curse. I'm buying a new one.' She does not mention that she has tried to use James' wand but it was fickle for her and she cannot afford an uncooperative wand in battle. She wonders whether the wand blames her for letting its master die.

'Bill's getting his first wand today,' Molly says with proud affection. 'He's so excited.'

'He's eleven already,' Lily says. 'That's incredible. They grow up so fast... Or at least they do when they have a chance to grow up at all...' She is talking more to herself now than Molly, lost in strands of her own thoughts. 'It would be Harry's second birthday tomorrow – I've bought him a present. Is that silly?'

'No, dear,' Molly says kindly. Wondering whether it is rude to ask, she adds. 'What did you get him?'

'A toy snitch. He liked the broomstick so much, see.'

Their conversation is interrupted by Mr Ollivander calling Lily over.

'My, my, you have been careless,' he says reproachfully, eyeing the woefully ruined wand. 'Well, let's see what we can find for you!'

As it was the first time round, it is a long process and Lily finds her patience fraying. She wishes that the wandmaker had a more efficient way of pairing a wand with a wizard than trial and error.

Thankfully, a match is finally found.

'Holly and Phoenix feather,' she mutters to herself, getting to know the wand. It feels warm and _right _somehow. 'Thank you, Mr Ollivander.'

He bows her out of the shop with a strange smile before turning to Bill Weasley. Ten minutes later, a maple wand, the fifth Bill has tried, is put into his hand and he grins, knowing it is the one.

'Right, now we really are going home,' Molly says, chivvying her two boys towards the door and thanking Ollivander profusely.

* * *

Bill has packed and checked his trunk three times that night. It stands proudly next to his bed, ready to look after his things once they get to Hogwarts.

'Are you scared?' Percy asks, looking frightened himself. He is sitting on his bed, cross-legged and wide-eyed.

Bill shakes his head.

'What about Death Eaters?'

'They won't get into Hogwarts, not with Dumbledore there.'

'Sure?'

'Positive.'

'I wish you didn't have to go,' Percy says miserably.

Bill sits down next to him and puts a hand on his shoulder. 'I'll write to you all – and I'll be back Christmas time. Time flies,' he says, repeating one of his grandmother's favourite catchphrases.

'No, it doesn't.'

Bill sighs a little impatiently. He wishes Percy wouldn't put a damper on his last night at home. 'You've got to start acting a bit more grown up once I'm gone, you know,' he says in his most authoritative big-brother voice. 'You can't go bothering Mum and Dad with your nightmares all the time because they've got enough to worry about! Just remember that they're only dreams and they can't hurt you.'

Percy nods.

Still.

When it's dark, he hears things. There are noises and bangs and curses and screams and flying lights. There are screaming masks. There is pain. Instinctively, as though sleepwalking, he crawls into Bill's bed, curling up like a dormouse and quivering.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

January 1983

Everybody agrees that Bartemius Crouch's speech is powerful and rousing, even those who do not necessarily agree with its content.

'We shall stand for this no longer,' he roars to the atrium. 'No longer shall we cower and quake and stand aside meekly while murderers and rogues claim our world for their own.' He pauses briefly so that the crowd can bellow their approval. 'For far too long, we have been too soft, too lenient, demanding too much proof. What kind of world is that creating for us? For our children? I'll tell you: a world ruled by fear! I promise you a safe world, a world where Death Eaters are subjected to the same treatment that they have been inflicting upon us!'

Bartemius Crouch wins the election by a landslide.

'Jesus Christ,' Lily mutters, unfolding the paper at the Grimmauld Place breakfast table and seeing the news. 'But the bloke's insane!'

'Insane, yet somehow he's leading us,' Sirius says with mock wonder.

'Maybe it's for the best,' Sturgis Podmore suggests. 'Fight fire with fire.'

'We can't sink to their level,' Remus says quietly. 'Crouch would have us do that. He also wants the Ministry to have a more active part of the Order of the Phoenix – he says it's inefficient to operate separately.'

'The Ministry can't tell Dumbledore what to do,' Lily sneers, scanning through the article to see all the new legislation which is to be implemented. 'This is ridiculous.'

* * *

Arthur is uneasy. The atmosphere at the Ministry is rapidly becoming toxic and nobody can trust one another. It seems that the slightest throwaway comment can get a wizard locked immediately in Azkaban these days.

At his desk, he writes out a report on his latest confiscation: a car which had been bewitched to crash at high speeds, often killing the muggle passengers. While there has always been something dark and cruel in pranks against muggles, Arthur is sure that it has been getting steadily worse; when he first started this job, there were rarely any artefacts that resulted in death, usually embarrassment and mild discomfort, like the slapping spatula.

He glances towards the photo of his family on his inbox. It is a new one, taken at Christmas and it pains him to see how solemn his three older boys are – they are smiling and waving, but the wizarding camera has captured the seriousness in their eyes, the adultness. He was a fool to think that it was possible to raise children in a war and for it not to have some effect. Arthur dearly hopes that the war will end in time for some of his children to actually be children, but the likelihood isn't very high.

After lunch, Crouch comes in to talk to the department; the atmosphere is taut as everybody wonders whether someone is to be reprimanded or arrested.

They breathe a sigh of relief as a scrawny blond youth is revealed.

'My son will be joining this department,' Crouch tells them and everyone hears the implied _to keep him out of trouble._ It is no secret that there is little love lost between Crouch and his son. 'He will join the Magical Law Enforcement squad tomorrow morning.'

'Which means he didn't get in to Auror Training,' Alastor mutters with grim satisfaction at Arthur's side. 'The boy's academic enough but put him in a room with a boggart and he falls to pieces.'

The pale young man bobs his head awkwardly before his father allows him to leave. Eyes trail after him as he leaves the room, making the back of his head itch.

* * *

Alastor Moody limps over to his desk and groans as he sits down.

'I need to start thinking about retiring,' he mutters to himself, even though he knows he never will, not when there are Death Eaters hunting the innocent. He will stop fighting when Death itself greets him and prises his wand stubbornly from his hand.

'Mr Moody?' Fabian Prewett is hovering patiently near his door. Moody recognises in him the alertness of one who has cheated death too many times, a fear that next time it will be him. He was so lucky last time that the Order had arrived on time, Lily blasting Dolohov's wand away as he stood over Fabian's unconscious form. Unfortunately, they had not been in time to save Gideon.

'Yes, Fabian?' Moody asks gruffly.

'Reports have come in about a pagan gathering in Lancaster. Crouch wants us to check it out.'

Moody snarls his impatience. 'As though Aurors don't have better things to do than arresting bloody hippies!'

Fabian nods but doesn't leave the doorway.

'Alright, alright, I suppose. Get Frank or Alice and we'll head over there now and give them a warning. Any idea of the number of them'

'About twenty.'

Moody shakes his head, sure that the afternoon will be a waste of time. Still, he needs to pick his battles and there's no point annoying Crouch over this.

By the time he's ready and outside the office, Fabian is standing with Alice Longbottom, a woman with a deceptively sweet and gentle demeanour.

In Lancaster, in the woods a few miles outside the town where some nosy witch or wizard unearthed 'unauthorised magic' a group of people dressed in earthy browns and greens are sitting in a circle, holding hands and chanting. In the centre of the circle, a fire is burning suspended several metres in the air.

'Now, now, let's put a stop to all this,' Moody announces as they stride into the clearing. A woman with long, braided dark hair stands up from the circle and walks towards them.

'Our coven is none of your concern,' she says calmly, her head held high.

'You're performing illegal magic in the plain view of any muggles that might walk by – I reckon that _is_ our business. Now, clear off before I have the lot of you taken into the Ministry!'

A few of the other people, less bold than the woman standing before Moody, are starting to leave hurriedly. The fire flickers out.

'Miranda, we better go!' one of the men says anxiously to her. 'It isn't worth it!'

'Take his advice,' Alice says to her. Her tone is kind but Miranda shoots her a look of pure contempt before walking away after her fellow pagans.

'That's the third time this month,' Alice says as soon as they arrive back in the office, shaking her head with incredulity. 'A year ago, I thought that pagan covens were either a myth or ancient history!'

'In times such as these, people are losing faith with the wizarding community and looking for alternatives,' Fabian points out. 'But it is worrying how many people are being taken in by it when we know so little about it.'

Dawlish, a young Auror, is listening to the conversation with interest. 'But who are these pagans?' he asks. 'The Ministry are very vague about what they are or what they do.'

'That's because none of us know what they do, not really,' Fabian says. 'You know that wizarding magic came to Britain with the Romans and before that there were lots of different cults and tribes which used their own brands of magic, right?'

Everyone present shakes their head.

Fabian sighs. 'When Wizardry came over from Europe around two thousand years ago, early wizards converted as many other magical practitioners as possible and it caught on because wands were seen to be so effective. Other types of magic still continued in small pockets for centuries but they were very much a minority and when the Ministry of Magic introduced the Statute of Secrecy, they banned all non-wizarding strains of magic because it was too hard to control and police.'

'How do you know that?' Alice demands.

'I was the only person since Bathilda Bagshot to take History of Magic at NEWT level,' he explains. 'So now, pagan magic is making a bit of a comeback. Pagans claim that witchcraft and wizardry are inherently bad because there are so many dark wizards and they want to focus on nature-based magic, and the Ministry see the pagan movement as a direct attack of the wizarding world.'

'Is it a direct attack?' Dawlish asks.

Moody cuts in: 'Mostly they seem to want to be left alone by wizards, but they're untested and often dangerous magic out in the open. But no, Crouch is paranoid if he thinks that they'll attack – they're pacifists, the lot of them.'

* * *

Percy is having trouble sleeping. He has arranged all his teddies to make a fortress around him in bed but it isn't enough. The silence is the room is oppressive.

Sometime in the night, muffled shouts and screams waft in through his open window. Percy creeps cautiously to the ledge; in the distance, the house shaped like a castle on the hill is aflame and he can make out the faint line of lights that curses make. Percy isn't sure whether he's dreaming or not.

**As a disclaimer, the pagans in this story are very loosely based on the Wicca from Buffy the vampire slayer. **

**Also, I know that it's bad manners to beg, but could I please have some reviews: negative and noncommittal comments also welcome! Thanks!**


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

November 1983

Lily wonders why she is not dead yet. She has hurled herself into danger enough times, saving lives in the process, yet she has not died a hero's death. She feels she is owed that and it has been stolen from her. All the good that she has managed to do in the last few years is trivial compared to the good that she didn't manage to do: she couldn't protect her child.

'Isn't this supposed to be easier already?' she demands of Remus. He sits opposite her, looking concerned and caring but still lacking in any real, useful advice.

'I don't know – these sort of things don't have a time limit,' Remus says. See, not useful.

Still, Lily manages to be grateful for the solace he is trying to offer her.

'Will you come with me to Godric's Hollow next week? I want to lay flowers and I can't cope going alone.'

'Of course,' Remus says sympathetically.

* * *

'Mongrel!'

The contemptuous outburst is accompanied by a clod of dragon dung which hits Remus on the side of the face. With a shaky handle on his composure, he wipes himself down briskly and carries on walking down Diagon Alley.

The assailants, a gaggle of men not much younger than himself, continue to deride him.

'Not so much fight in you now, is there? Bark worse than your bite, eh?' one of them shouts, then laughs at his own poor joke.

'Better be careful,' one of the other men mocks in a stage whisper. 'Don't want him making a beeline for you during the full moon, do you?'

Their raucous giggles fade out as he carries on walking. This is not the first time that Remus has been publicly humiliated, but he's shaking all the same. It has been getting worse, more frequent lately due to the link that many werewolves have with Voldemort.

'Are you alright?' A red-haired man is looking at Remus with concern. Mortified, Remus goes red as he realises what a state he must look.

'Yes, yes, thank you,' Remus tells him, smiling. 'Just fell over!'

He never tells anyone about these incidents – there is not much point, not when there are much worse things happening. He has showered and changed by the time that Sirius gets home to lock him in the fortified basement, gripping his shoulder as though to wish him luck for the night ahead.

Remus sighs as the locks and bolts clank, sealing him in. Winter transformations are always the worst – nights are so long. He waits, and after a few long minutes, a ripple of pain screams along his back.

Upstairs, Sirius is cooking grimly, his mind downstairs with his best friend. He lets out a sudden, harsh laugh.

'What?' Lily asks.

'Just thinking about my mother's reaction if she could see who's living here.'

'A mudblood and a half breed?'

'Exactly. It would kill her if she weren't already dead.'

There is a comfortable silence for a few more minutes and the rich smell of ratatouille envelopes the kitchen; Sirius changes the subject.

'Have you noticed how angry people are getting?'

'They have the right to be angry. The country is upside down and innocent people are dropping like flies. We need to be angry,' Lily argues.

'Not like this. There are mobs out there. Crouch keeps some stories out of the Prophet on the pretence that it's bad for morale, but according the aurors, it's getting pretty bad. Tertius McLeod was burnt alive yesterday on the grounds of being a Death Eater by an angry mob from Teignmouth.'

'But that still hasn't been proven!' Lily says. 'He hadn't had a trial yet.'

'I know.'

'Bloody hell,' Lily mutters to herself.

* * *

The air is alive with shouts and jeers. Wands are held aloft, shining softly and lighting up the blood-hungry faces. Lucius' heart sinks as he sees them from his balcony come over the crest of a hill. The time has come for him to defend his home and family.

'It's time,' he says softly to Narcissa, who pales and drops down in a crouch to talk to Draco.

'You remember where Mummy told you to hide? Our secret place?' she asks him seriously. Draco nods, tears instinctively filling his bright blue eyes which were yet to fade to grey.

'Hide there. It's a game,' Narcissa says, trying to twist her mouth to a smile. 'Don't come out.' The child scarpers away.

Lucius presses the tattoo on his forearm anxiously, thinking '_danger, help_' before holding his wife's hand and heading downstairs.

The mob has already forced the front door open and is bustling into the hall. Lucius is unreasonably angry at how out of place they look next to the finely-wrought ornaments and expensive furniture.

'Manners, gentlemen!' Lucius sneers, coming down the staircase, his own wand raised. 'We are Englishmen, after all.' Daring to glance sideways, he sees that Narcissa has also managed to mask her fear and is gazing down at the mob as though they are a nest of sewer rats.

A hairy, dishevelled wizard in the front roars with laughter. 'I've always admired your composure, Malfoy, I'll give you that!'

The angry cries mellow to a hissing now and the air is so thick with malevolent intent that Lucius can barely breathe.

'If you all leave at once then I will see to it that your time at Azkaban is relatively short,' Lucius says smoothly. The hiss gets louder.

'We don't let Death Eaters walk about like decent folk!' somebody yells. There is an appreciative murmur of assent.

'I am no Death Eater,' Lucius says calmly. He wonders where his allies are – have they not felt the mark burn? _Are they too busy washing their hair? _Lucius thinks savagely.

'You've always made your views on muggleborns pretty clear,' the hairy wizard breathes, stepping closer to Lucius. Up close, he seems even grimier and smells of gin. His eyes are red and do not quite focus. Lucius suddenly realises who the man is: Fenwick. His son was killed in battle by Crabbe, and now he seeks revenge.

'Having high standards regarding the people with whom I associate is not a crime,' Lucius answers. 'I am personally above physical violence. Unless, of course, my hand is forced,' Lucius adds, raising his wand a little higher.

'What if we didn't believe you?' Fenwick snarls.

_Where _are _they?_ Lucius wonders, his cool façade starting to fail and his wand arm starting to tremble.

* * *

Lily's hands are frozen to her broom; it is starting to snow. She is about to ask how much further they have to go when she is shocked into silence: a ball of fire hundreds of feet high comes into view on the horizon.

'Is that Malfoy Manor?' she shouts to Sirius. He nods grimly. It looks like they are too late.

They land roughly on the ground where a group of wizards is marching away from the manor, levitating black objects in the air in front of them.

'Are you out of your mind?' Lily demands, striding towards them. They are laughing, high on a rush as though they've been watching a Quidditch game. 'Is that Fiendfyre?'

'Justice has been done,' Benjy Fenwick's father retorts.

Sirius, however, is looking at the black floating objects. 'What are they?'

'Well,' Fenwick says with ugly satisfaction. 'They _were_ a couple of Death Eaters.'

Sirius waves his wand and they sink towards him. Up close, the stench of burnt flesh is overwhelming, charred black.

'Oh, God,' Dawlish moans and stumbles away. Sirius hears retching sounds from the young auror.

'What about their son?' Lily asks quietly.

Fenwick shakes his head in confusion, not knowing that the Malfoys had a son.

'They had a child about three and a half years old,' Lily whispers urgently. The mob has the common decency to look horrified and, as one entity, looks towards the house which is up in flames.

Without pausing to think of the consequences, Lily breaks away from the group and sprints towards the burning building.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

November 1983

Moody is the first one to see Lily run off towards the manor. He does not say anything. She needs something to shake her out of the nightmare she's been wading through and if rescuing a child from certain death is the way to do it, then so be it.

By the time anyone else sees her, she has too much of a head start.

'LILY! WHERE THE HELL ARE YOU GOING? Sirius shouts through funnelled hands but she cannot even hear him over the roar of the fire.

Lily casts a flame-freezing charm on herself, knowing that it will have very little effect on cursed fire but thinking that very little is better than none at all. A bubble-head charm should allow her to breathe in there. Then, she pulls out James' cloak. He had once told her, though she is not sure how much of the story that she believes, that this cloak once belonged to Death and as such it cannot be ripped or ruined or damaged in anyway. Or even burned.

Lily pulls it over herself, desperately hoping that the self-preservation power of the cloak is enough. She steps through the grand and elegantly decorated front doors which have been left slightly ajar; the fine paint is blackening and peeling off.

Inside the manor however is a furnace. Flames lick the walls and huge tiger-like demons of fire race along the corridors. To Lily's relief, although she is hotter than she has ever been in her life, the flames cannot pierce the cloak.

She can barely see through the black smoke churning upwards – surely a child couldn't last very long in this environment?

'Draco!' Lily calls out, hurrying from one room to the next as quickly as she can. Would he be conscious? 'DRACO!' Would he even come out? He might be too frightened and his parents would probably have warned him to stay hidden.

Lily stumbles into what must be the master bedroom – all the pretty curtains and sheets and carpets are burning brightly. Next to the dresser, Lily sees a small, hunched creature which she mistakes for a child at first.

'Draco!' she says eagerly, pulling her invisibility cloak aside so that he can see her. A large-eyed, bat-eared creature swivels to face her, swaying dazedly. Lily thinks it must be a house elf, though she has never seen one. She notices that it is folding bedclothes, even as they catch fire.

'You need to get out of here!' Lily says to the house elf. It shakes its head.

'Master says- says Dobby mustn't leave the room until everything is clean. Dobby must clean.' Its eyes are drooping shut.

'But the house is burning down!' Lily cries in frustration.

'Dobby must…' the elf trails off and its knees buckle.

Lily is shaken to the core by this but has no time to ponder the bizarre cruelty of a house elf's lot.

'Do you know where Draco is?'

'Master Draco?'

'Yes!'

'I is not to tell anyone where Master Draco is…' Dobby mumbles. The elf slides out of consciousness. Lily grabs him, but cannot get him out of the room: he seems to stick at the threshold. It seems even close to death, Dobby the elf cannot disobey the direct command of staying until the room is tidy.

She has to leave him. She hates herself for doing so, but she does not know how to save him.

Lily looks again around the hallway, feeling dizzy. The heat is oppressive, smothering. She will not be able to last very much longer.

As her time is running out, she spots through the smoke with remarkable clarity a statue which she has already walked past several times. This time, she notices that there is a crack down the side. It reminds her of the opening behind the old crone at Hogwarts, and it is this sudden link which makes her hurry over.

Her suspicions are correct: the statue can be opened up. Heaving it open, she crawls inside. The tunnel is very small and Lily has to crawl along her belly before getting to a small stone chamber at the end. Lily knows that this room must be protected by some extremely powerful enchantments; despite the Fiendfyre, the air here is cool and fresh and there is a peaceful silence.

In the corner, shivering miserably, she sees the small boy, his pale skin and white hair standing out starkly in the darkness. Lily pulls her cloak off slowly and he starts screaming.

'It's okay,' she tells him gently. 'I'm nice.' He's still, quite understandably, crying. 'You need to come with me.' He shakes his head vehemently. 'I'm going to take you to your Mummy and Daddy,' Lily says, feeling a stab of guilt but not knowing how else to gain the boy's trust. He quietens and takes the hand that Lily offers him. Relieved, she prays that the Malfoys never put an anti-apparition jinx on this room and picks Draco up.

They didn't.

Lily and Draco emerge outside the grounds in the cold night air. The snow has coated the ground by now. Draco, catching sight of his home, starts crying again and grips Lily tight. She feels a stirring of fierce affection towards him. The emotion seems to be spreading through her bones and waking her up.

'There you are!' Sirius says angrily, jogging towards her. He shakes his head, glad to see her alive.

'Well, I hope that's satisfied your adrenaline kick for today!'

Only Sirius and Remus remain. Lily scans the area wonderingly.

'The gang has been arrested and the bodies have been taken to the morgue,' Remus says quietly. 'Crouch sent a message saying to come in if you were still alive to give a report. I'm not sure if he intended to sound so flippant.'

'Fine,' Lily says, too tired to protest.

* * *

Crouch blinks coolly at the small child sitting on Lily's lap.

'I believe that Narcissa Malfoy had two sisters. I'm sure one of them will be more than happy to take the child,' he dismisses.

'Andromeda would take him,' Sirius agrees. 'She's got a kid herself.'

'No,' Lily says firmly. She has made up her mind. 'I'll look after him.'

Crouch snorts impatiently. 'He needs to go to his family. You, Mrs Potter, are neither a blood relative nor a godparent. You can't swoop down and take every orphaned child that this war leaves us with.'

'I don't want every orphaned child,' Lily replies as politely as she can between gritted teeth. 'I want this one.'

The minister shakes his head. He can hardly believe that he is getting into such a petty argument with this woman.

'Mrs Potter, you need to be reasonable,' Mr Crouch tells Lily in his best attempt to be soothing and understanding.

'What I need is a reason to live,' Lily says. 'Because I've not had one for a while. Apart from a bit more paperwork, what difference does it make who looks after Draco? You know I can offer him a good home.'

'This will be discussed at a later time – when we are all feeling a bit more rational,' Crouch says in a neutral enough tone. The words sting – he thinks her a hysterical woman.

* * *

'You're sure about this?' Sirius asks Lily, glancing sideways with an examining look.

'Certain.'

Draco has fallen asleep on the couch in the visitor's room with Sirius' cloak around him as a makeshift blanket. Lily is not very fond of this room – it smells of mothballs and stale air, but they need to wait here until she has signed the adoption certificate.

'I'll need to find my own place,' Lily murmurs to herself. She has vague imaginings of somewhere by the sea, somewhere with a fresh, salty breeze and a vast beach.

'Don't blame you. Mine doesn't exactly make for a cosy home.'

Draco turns over in his sleep and whimpers; Lily darts immediately to his side and strokes his hair.

'What do I tell him?' Lily wonders aloud. 'What do you say to a child that young? Do they even understand the concept of death?'

'I don't know,' Sirius admits.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

June 1985

'Mummy, I'm tired,' Neville complains, pulling on his mother's hand to slow her down.

Alice Longbottom's face is pale and frightened, her eyes glancing about wildly as though expecting someone to jump out at them. 'Neville darling, we have to keep going. Come on, just a bit further, you're too heavy for me to carry.'

Neville huffs petulantly and shuffles his feet along instead of picking them up, a habit for which his grandmother has always criticised him.

They arrive at 'The Golden Hind', a large, friendly muggle pub at a crossroads between a retail outlet and a motorway just before noon when it is starting to get busy. The brightly smiling muggle server directs Alice and Neville to a table by the window. Neville, hungry as well as tired, inhales his sausage and mash as soon as it is set down, but Alice only picks at her food.

_Where is Frank?_ she wonders. The thought feels brittle and sharp inside her head.

12:20: He should be here by now.

12:32: The server comes and brings them more drinks, asking how their food is. Everything is fine, thank you.

12:51: Would you like a dessert? Neville has a bowl of Rasberry Ripple and Alice stares at the clock.

13:07: Coffee? Alice sips her black coffee and Neville is bored by now, swinging his legs under the table with no toys to play with. He asks to play on the swings outside but Alice cannot bear to leave him out of her sight.

At quarter to two, it would be suspicious to wait any longer and the pub has already hinted that it is a busy time of day and they have customers waiting for a table.

Where could Frank be?

* * *

From a safe distance, Severus watches Lily push Draco on a swing at the muggle park. The boy, unaware that he is not only a wizard but pureblood, plays with the other children happily. Severus wonders what Lucius would have said at the sight of his little prince trawling about with peasants.

After a few minutes, Lily, laughing, sits down on the bench and watches her adopted son run around with the other children. She is talking to one of the other mothers, doubtlessly exchanging funny anectdotes or arranging playdates or whatever mothers discuss together. Severus would not know.

After James' death, Severus had thought for a long time about asking Lily to go for dinner with him, where he would convince her that he was a changed man. He has come to realise that he will never have that conversation with her. They will never have a quiet wedding in a small stone church with a few of Lily's close friends and Severus' mother; nor will they ever go on holidays to the seaside where she would collect driftwood and shells and he would get stung by a jellyfish; nor will they ever be blessed with funny, clever children who, by the grace of God, would be the spitting image of Lily and make her forget about Harry.

Despite of all these things which will not happen, he is glad that she has found happiness. He is glad that her face remembers how to light up in joy and that she can laugh in that way that only she can – the way which makes the world stop and laugh too.

He needs to make a move – they have managed to capture Frank Longbottom and it is his turn to reside over torturing the wherabouts of his wife and son out of the auror. His stomach jolts sickeningly – Frank is a brave man and this will not be easy.

'Did there have to be so many screaming children?' Moody demands as two run out right in front of him, almost causing him to drop his plate.

'Who did you expect to be invited to a five-year-old's birthday party? Draco's work colleagues?' Lily asks sweetly, pouring out more juice for a thirsty mob of children in front of her.

Moody grunts his response and retreats to eat at a safe distance.

'When is Sirius getting here? I want to wait for him before cutting the cake,' Lily says to Remus.

'He says he'll be here before two. Apparently, he's bringing a guest,' Remus answers, his mouth twitching into a tiny smile, alerting Lily's suspicions.

'Oh? A lady guest?'

'I believe so.'

'Well, as long as he remembers that there are children present.'

'He says that she's a bit different,' Remus adds.

'Different how? Does she have a tail?'

'With Sirius, I wouldn't be surprised. He once claimed to have kissed one of the mermaids at Hogwarts,' Remus says, smiling.

Lily and Remus join the rest of the adults outside in the garden. The weather has held out even though it looked like rain earlier and the children have disappeared into the trees and bushes.

'As long as we can round them all up at the end,' Lily mutters to Remus.

Sirius, true to his word, arrives in time to cut the cake, holding hands with a dark-haired woman in her late twenties. She has a reserved air about her and Lily feels as though she is being studied when they shake hands.

'This is Pippa,' Sirius tells everyone, beaming at her as he has never beamed at anyone before. 'She's a Neurosurgeon.'

The wizards present blink confusedly.

'Wow, it must be so rewarding to be able to heal people,' Lily says quickly. The wizards present nod with understanding.

Pippa agrees politely. After making a few awkward stabs at a conversation, Lily desists and lets Fabian take over the small talk.

'Where did you meet a surgeon?' Lily asks Sirius quietly.

'Motorbike rally in Builth Wells. Our eyes met across a man getting a crossbow tattooed on his bicep.'

* * *

Frank Longbottom can barely hold himself upright. His head hangs down heavily between his shoulders. When he speaks, he has difficulty forming words, yet he is still defiant.

Bellatrix cackles hysterically and raises her wand, ready to deliver another round of the Cruciatus Curse, but Voldemort stops her.

'That is enough for now, Bellatrix. He is no use to me if he is simple.'

Severus is staring off into the distance and doing his best not to see the man who has been tortured with great imagination for weeks on end. When is enough, enough? He does not mind dying but the thought of what might happen to Lily if he switches allegiances rips his very soul to shreds.

King's Cross Station is heavily guarded by aurors, but that does not make any of the parents less nervous. They all feel vulnerable. Molly Weasley is no exception.

Molly squeezes the twins' hands tightly in hers while Percy keeps an eye on Ron and Ginny. She wishes Arthur could have had the time off work to come with them.

When she sees Bill and Charlie get off the train, Ginny squeals and breaks away from Percy, arms outreached.

'Hey, Princess, how are things?' Bill asks, snatching her up off the ground while Charlie hugs Molly. She immediately bursts into tears – another year is over and they are all safe.


End file.
